


Setting A Different Course

by Gerec



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Airplane Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way to Paris, Charles has sex on the plane with <i>Logan</i> instead of Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting A Different Course

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Прокладывая новый курс](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131105) by [krasnoe_solnishko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasnoe_solnishko/pseuds/krasnoe_solnishko)



> An alternative take on the 'missing' plane sex scene, with more feels and less porn than I expected.  
>    
>  **CHINESE TRANSLATION AVAILABLE[HERE](http://www.mtslash.com/thread-126774-1-1.html)**
> 
> Thanks to **traumschwinge** for the quick beta and **velvetcadence** for help with the title!

The punch is a surprise; certainly not a move Logan would’ve expected from the calm and stately Professor X he’s known for years. But there’s no arguing that it’s an apt greeting for the likes of Magneto. And thoroughly amusing to watch.

It becomes less so a few hours later when the two men, their emotions raw and exposed, have a go at each other with words meant to cut and bleed. Punches would have been better Logan thinks; doing far less damage than the carnage being wrought by their accusations.

He had known, even before bearing witness to this heated confrontation that the history between Magneto and the Professor was complicated; rooted in a deep and abiding friendship twisted by betrayal. To see the devastation now with his own eyes – the look on Charles’ face as he stares, so unbelievably hurt and lost up at Lehnsherr – is enough to make him hate his mission just a little bit more.

“So you were always an asshole,” he says, words better than the fist he wants to plant in Lehnsherr’s face. 

“I take it we’re best buddies in the future,” is the snide response he gets in return, the same arrogance and self-righteousness he recalls of the older Magneto. He’d almost forgotten how much he dislikes old Mags and mistrusts him, forced as they’ve been into an uneasy alliance since the War began. 

It takes some effort to shake the building rage, refocusing his thoughts instead on their urgent need to find Mystique before she pulls the trigger on Trask. He even allows himself a few words of acknowledgement for Magneto’s strength of will, and tries not to think too much about their similarities as fighters and perpetual survivors. 

And he spares a thought for the Professor X and Magneto he left in the future, wondering if they’d known what a convoluted mess Logan would have on his hands, bringing their younger selves together.

\---

Things go from messy to potentially disastrous about thirty minutes later. 

\---

Charles reappears from the cockpit and heads straight for the washroom at the rear of the plane, ignoring both Logan and Lehnsherr on his way through the cabin. Lehnsherr’s face is a blank mask but for the tight purse of his lips, eyes glued to the telepath as he staggers by. They both watch the door close behind Charles with a soft click, the sound of running water filtering through the thin cabin walls just a few moments later.

He expects Magneto to follow, but the other man just sits on the couch and stares at the closed door, fist clenched at his side. It’s apparent how very close Xavier is teetering on the edge, every wound bare and torn open, a man with so little left to lose. And he wants to believe that Lehnsherr understands what they’re dealing with; that his hesitation stems from a genuine desire not to make things worse with his former friend.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Charles is still inside.

He stands and Lehnsherr immediately tenses, his eyes narrowing as Logan makes his way slowly over to the washroom door. There’s a brief second when his instincts flare red hot, the weight of Lehnsherr’s glare as potent as a jagged knife in his back. He forces himself to ignore it, knocking on the door and calling out, “Charles? Everything alright in there?”

The door opens immediately, a hand reaching forward to tug Logan inside before slamming closed behind him with a loud bang. He finds himself pressed up against Charles in the enclosed space, the telepath’s hands fisting his shirt.

“Good, it’s you,” Charles mutters, sounding slightly relieved before yanking him into a searing kiss, hard and bruising. Logan is too stunned to react for a few long moments, mouth parting unconsciously at the insistent press of the other man’s tongue.

“Wait, wait a minute,” he says, pulling away to stare at the telepath. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Charles snaps, hands grappling to unbuckle Logan’s belt, eyes wild and red. Close as they are Logan can’t see anything beyond a face and broad shoulders but he can feel Charles’ erection pushing against him, straining from pants already unzipped. “What’s the matter? Do you only fuck women then?”

“No, I—” are all he manages to get out before Charles is on him again, mouth hot and demanding. It completely overwhelms him – the lust shooting up his spine, visceral and all consuming. And the realization that he’s kissing the _Professor_ , a man he respects with no small amount of admiration. That he loves, like _family_ —

“Fuck,” he growls, the back of his head hitting the wooden door with a dull thud as Charles slides his hand inside Logan’s jeans, wrapping warm and perfect around his half hard cock. Turns out, his body is completely on board with the telepath stroking him while his mind struggles to understand what the hell is going on.

“Come on, Logan. Come on,” Charles pants against his lips, hands shoving Logan’s jeans down just enough to free his cock. He reaches behind and fumbles around for an open tube of lubricant beside the sink, huffing triumphantly when he manages to squeeze some of it onto his fingers. An impatient hand, cold and wet, works the slick up and down Logan’s shaft, dragging a long guttural groan from his lips.

Charles pulls away abruptly with a grunt, yanking his pants and shoe off one leg before scrambling up and backwards onto the narrow counter top. Everything is fast and rough and _loud_ and Logan knows that both Lehnsherr and McCoy must know by now what’s happening in the tiny washroom. It’s enough to sober him, hand reaching around to grasp Charles’ neck, gentle but with sufficient force to hold the telepath still.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, because he needs to know what the Professor is thinking. That he’s not doing something he’s going to regret the moment it’s over. “I’m not saying no. But you gotta tell me what this is about, Charles.”

It’s telling that the telepath doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, hand running through his hair in exasperation. “It’s just sex, alright? This isn’t…, it’s nothing. Doesn’t mean anything. Do you want to do this or not?”

The words are defiant – challenging Logan to pull away – completely at odds with the way Charles is practically clinging to him with fingers curled painfully tight around his biceps. “I do want to,” he says gently, “do _you_?”

A myriad of emotions flit across the other man’s face; a snarl morphing into a frustrated groan, before settling finally into quiet desperation.

“You said you needed my help,” Charles whispers, voice hoarse and ragged like broken glass. “But I need you to help me first. I need…something. This. I need to do this, Logan. With _you_. Please.”

He understands then, the relief in Charles’ voice when the telepath opened the door to find Logan and not _Erik_ standing there. Because Charles wants and doesn’t want to be anywhere near Lehnsherr right now. Because he loves him as much as he hates him. Because he does and doesn’t want to give in and let the bastard take what little is left of his pride and dignity.

The decision is an easy one and Logan spares no more thought on the right and wrong of fucking the man who would someday become his friend and mentor. He’s here to make sure the world doesn’t end and letting things get even messier between Xavier and Lehnsherr is the last thing the mission needs.

“Come here,” he says, dragging the other man into a lingering kiss, his hands sliding down to grip the soft flesh of Charles’ bare ass. The telepath sighs against his lips, losing some of the tension in his shoulders as he wraps his arms around Logan’s neck. The earlier sense of urgency and recklessness has dissipated, leaving something softer and more genuine in its wake.

“What do you want?” he asks, mouthing a wet trail along pale flesh, licking the taste of lust and sweat off Charles’ skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” the telepath answers, reaching to stroke Logan’s cock again, sliding it against the rim of his entrance with a quiet moan. “I want you to fuck me. You don’t have to wait, I’ve already…I’m ready for you.”

Logan lets out a groan, loud and wanton; the image of Charles in the washroom alone, working himself open with slick fingers sends a sharp spike of desire straight to his groin. It’s enough to spur him on, the feeling exquisite as he buries himself inside the telepath with one long, steady push.

“Oh,” Charles pants, fingers digging into the back of his neck, the tight muscles in his ass fluttering as he adjusts to the stretch and burn. The wait feels like an eternity, but then Charles is moving, propping both of his feet against the door before shoving down onto Logan’s cock with a loud cry. 

He can’t remember the last time he’s had this, the tight heat gripping his shaft, every inch of his body hungry and tingling from the heady rush of adrenaline. Bracing his feet against the sides of the washroom he starts fucking into Charles with intent, rocking in and out, filling the tiny space with their heated grunts and breathless moans. He spares little thought for the way the cabinets suddenly start vibrating, the contents rattling violently as he fucks the telepath with thrusts sharp and deep.

“Logan, oh. Fuck!” and Charles is coming, hips arching off the counter, warm stripes of sticky seed shooting all over his pale blue shirt. He’s close himself but not quite there, though the clenching around his cock drives him into a frenzy, desperate for his own release. 

With a growl he pulls out, sliding Charles off the counter and spinning him around, pinning him face first against the door. The telepath moans when Logan slides right back in, hands spreading his ass wide and open. Every rough stroke drags a whimper from Charles’ lips, the heady sounds and the wet drag of his cock against hot flesh finally toppling Logan over the edge with a shout.

\--- 

He exits the washroom first, leaving Charles alone to get himself sorted. Logan isn’t surprised to see Lehnsherr still sitting in the same spot, though the expression on his face is thunderous and dark. Being on the receiving end of Magneto’s derision all these years has given him a front row seat to the man’s temper and his megalomania but this…this is something else entirely. 

“I’m fairly certain we didn’t send you back in time to fuck him,” is what Lehnsherr says, his voice completely devoid of emotion. 

“It’s none of your business,” Logan growls, stalking past him towards the cockpit. “Leave him alone. You’ve done enough.”

Lehnsherr doesn’t answer him. Not now.

But Logan knows he will; it’s only a matter of _when_. 

And how badly it’s going to hurt.


End file.
